


Fucked by Fear: The Spiral

by comic_books_and_bars, Ptarantula



Series: Fucked by Fear [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: AU Canon Divergence, Canon Asexual Character, Do Not Archive, Dubious Consent, Jon asks for sex?!, Jon’s had enough edging, M/M, Michael thinks bodies are weird, Oral Sex, Trans Character, Transgender Author, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex, asexual author, female terminology for transmale genitalia, roleplay turned fic, trans!Jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comic_books_and_bars/pseuds/comic_books_and_bars, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ptarantula/pseuds/Ptarantula
Summary: Michael saves the day, sort of. Jon is... well he just is.***“Do you think you can satisfy me,” he challenged. “Do you even comprehend what you would need to do to satisfy me?”He surprised himself -what was he doing?Getting himself into a sexual encounter, willingly, with a monster that made no bones about wanting him dead.What the actual fuck, Jon?
Relationships: Michael/Jonathan Sims
Series: Fucked by Fear [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678831
Comments: 18
Kudos: 144





	Fucked by Fear: The Spiral

**Author's Note:**

> This is directly after the events in Fucked by Fear: The Stranger (part two in this series). You don't necessarily need to read it first, but it would provide a bit more context.

Jon could hear when the rain began to pound some far off wall of the museum. He never knew whether to curse the distance or be glad he could hear anything at all from outside. Somewhere a bit nearer, the coffin began to sing. None of this was at all unusual.

What was unusual was the static that crackled and popped off to the side and the long, haunting creak of a door opening. That was unusual, but familiar.

Jon turned to look, apprehension making his breathing erratic.

“Oh… Oh… Oh, Archivist. What have you done now? It’s almost sad to see you like this.”

It was Michael. Of course it was Michael.

Jon rolled his eyes in exasperation and groaned. He didn’t know what he had expected, really. The Spiral was as annoying as always even if he was glad to see some being that wasn’t a creepy, plastic clown doll.

“Almost,” Michael teased, slinking ever closer to Jon.

“I’ve come to a decision, Archivist. I’m going to kill you.”

Michael continued to be as annoying as expected. Surprisingly, it wanted to give Jon a statement, which Jon actually quite appreciated. Or, he would have done if it weren’t for the death threats and theatrics. Around about the time it got around to explaining exactly why it intended to kill Jon was when the Distortion took note of the Archivist’s heavy breathing and squirming.

“I had hoped that you would stop the Unknowing first, destroy the workings of I-Do-Not-Know-You. But instead you are- ... Archivist, are you listening to me?”

“I’m going to be honest with you, Michael. No.”

The thing followed with its gaze as Jon began to pace.

“I can barely think, let alone listen actively. You’ll have to forgive me,” Jon snapped, arms crossed. He was decidedly  _ not _ touching himself. “But, as I understand it, you wanted to kill me. So, does it particularly matter?”

Michael had the nerve to be reproachful.

“Yes,” it crossed its arms and, there was no other word for it, pouted. “I wanted you to listen to my statement. That is very rude of you. Unprofessional, even.”

Jon leveled him with an unimpressed look. 

“Oh, I listened to your statement. Every. Single. Word,” he punctuated his words by stepping closer to the Distortion. 

“Trust me, I heard you loud and clear,” he was stood in front of Michael now, facing the thing down with far too much bravado.

“And now you want to kill me, to prevent the Circus’ plan.  _ Will _ that stop the plan?” 

He was agitated and horny and none of this seemed to get him closer to ending his misery.

But then a strange shudder went through Michael - static and flashes of light disturbed the very reality around it. The Distortion’s giggling returned as it arched like a question mark over Jon until they were uncomfortably face to face.

“Archivist,” it purred. “Something is  _ wrong _ with your body... something... fun.”

Jon laughed wryly, eyes hot when they locked on the thing’s own. 

“Is it _ fun _ ? However long I’ve been here, tortured and shattered,” he took a deep breath through his nose before speaking again. 

“I  _ burn _ and I  _ need _ and  _ unless _ you intend to do something about that...” he trailed off as his body quivered at the very possibility of finally reaching climax after a full month of edging.

Jon was on edge. There were no two ways about it. He was a man unaccustomed to sexual desires and he had just spent weeks having them forced upon him only to be ripped away again. He didn’t have any tolerance to that sort of torment. He could not- would not- 

“Do you think you can satisfy me,” he challenged. “Do you even comprehend what you would need to do to satisfy me?”

He surprised himself -  _ what was he doing? _ Getting himself into a sexual encounter, willingly, with a monster that made no bones about wanting him dead.  _ What the actual fuck, Jon? _

Michael shuddered and Jon’s perception went dizzy with spots and spirals before the creature stood before him as nude as an incomprehensible insanity avatar could be.

His entire body was just a bit off, but the important parts were there. He had a mouth, though with far too many teeth, he had long fingers that were mercifully blunt at the moment, and a stiff cock-shaped appendage that wasn’t quite right. But who could be choosy? Not Jon.

“Oh. I think I do,” it drawled.

“Prove. It.” 

Jon was biting out each word like an accusation - a clear declaration that he doubted Michael had what it would take to satisfy him. He reached down to unfasten his trousers with one hand in a fluid motion so smooth and sexually charged that he would never be able to recreate it again.

His other hand reached out to stroke the line of Michael’s hip, from waist to navel, gently with the side of his pinky finger.

Michael laughed and it fizzled over Jon’s skin and sank deep into his already wet cunt. Where his finger traced the being’s lines, it tingled unbearably. Jon could tell instantly that having any sort of extended contact with Michael would result in truly mind-numbing sensations.

He might actually lose his mind. Might have done already. Either way, he wasn’t prepared when the Distortion grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed his chest and face firmly against the shut door. The unreal buzzing came from there too, winding little pinprick pleasures around his nipples and fizzling on his parted lips.

“Allow me,” it said with mock gentleness. His trousers were pulled off along with his pants. The creature behind him must have lowered itself because the next thing Jon knew was a far too long tongue sweeping against his slit.

Jon’s eyes fluttered with the sudden shock of sensation and he had to bite down on his arm to keep from howling with how right it felt. The sound that did escape him was a whimper of profound ecstasy. His hips pressed back and he spread his knees a bit wider, searching for more. More of what, he didn’t know. But he did need it. Now.

Michael gave it to him happily. Its tongue started out by flicking over the entirety of his cunt like a whip. When it decided to go deeper, it didn’t go by halves. The tongue was long and prehensile and it filled his hole so nicely.

At the same time, there were the odd, buzzy feelings that flickered through him. Sometimes they stung and sometimes they fizzled. Ever so often, one would settle warm and heavy at the pit of his stomach.

Jon made the prettiest noises as he rode the sensations, hips arching eagerly into his own bliss. He was, for all intents and purposes, trying to fuck himself on Michael’s tongue. 

“Mmh! Tha- sss-  _ god, _ “ he sobbed.

The tongue settled into a rhythm as it explored the shape of Jon’s insides. When the tip began to prod his front wall with purpose, Jon came to a startling realization: Michael would let him cum. It wouldn’t stop short. It wouldn’t leave him wanting. On the contrary, it would likely force him through several orgasms before it was through. It might break his mind open with pleasure and devour him.

The very idea sent him into the best climax of his life.

His knees buckled and he bit down hard on his left forearm to keep quiet as the orgasm tore through him. The past month of denial left him oversensitive and weak. His body buzzed and pulsed. He still wanted - no, needed - more. So much more.

He realized that he would take anything Michael gave right now, gladly.

Michael, intent to satisfy, continued to roll its tongue around inside until Jon shook through the end of his climax. Its massive hands wrapped around his waist to hold him up against the door when his knees gave out. The realization that he found the overly long hands attractive made him feel as though he had vertigo - like being hoisted off the ground by a lover he hadn’t realized could lift him so easily.

When Jon’s orgasm was well and done, the Distortion lazily removed its tongue to instead flick over the Archivist’s hard cock.

“Y-you’re quite good at tha-aaaaahh,” Jon babbled. 

His head was lightly thumping the door even as his nails dug into the yellow wood. He was twitching down to his curled toes. Shakily, he pressed his legs on either side of Michael’s neck for balance. He couldn’t help but to squeeze lightly with every pulse of euphoria. The thing hummed softly against him. It liked that, he guessed.

“Remember, Archivist, you must not be too loud,” it stretched out its words, enunciating them clearly for him before it returned to tonguing his cock.

The sound he made could be mistaken as pleasured acquiescence, but he was aiming for aggrieved bliss. He sunk his teeth back into his arm to muffle his moaning and resumed his door scratching. He tried to stuff more into his mouth to keep quiet. If Michael kept up on his cock like that, he was going to finish again before its physically impossible cock got anywhere near his empty, needy cunt.

Michael delicately removed Jon’s arm from his mouth. It pressed its own huge finger against his teeth instead. Its other hand held the Archivist off the ground just fine on its own. He chomped down and gnawed the digits briefly before rearing his head back. His teeth zinged uncomfortably, like chewing tinfoil, briefly before it died down to a gentle buzz.

Cautiously he gave the fingers a lick and then a suck, increasingly pulling more length into his mouth.

They felt extremely strange in his mouth - like nothing human at all. They felt remarkably true to every description Jon had ever had, like vaguely bone-shaped and sharpish rocks wrapped in warm leather. 

He was, however, glad that they were less sharp than when Michael had cut him. The fingers were nicer than one would expect to lick and suck on. Jon found that he could control the sparking and buzzing with his suction. He also found that he preferred the sensation against his tongue and away from his teeth.

It continued to lick Jon with its stupidly long tongue and every flick against his prick either hurt or delighted him. Always a surprise. It then sucked its tongue back in so that it could wrap prickling lips around Jon’s swollen cock. Michael made an appreciative sound right against Jon’s cock as he began to suck its fingers.

Jon was inordinately pleased by the avatar’s approval and sucked more intently. Fellating the digits like he would a cock. He licked around and between the fingers, pulling them as deep into his mouth as he could without gagging.

The vibrations sent a spark of pleasure which nudged him over the edge again. He wasn’t prepared for it, there was no build up this time. It took everything in him not to moan openly. Instead, he let out a rough shuddering sigh and small  _ mmnh _ from deep in his chest.

Michael surged up instantly and seemed to shift its body until the long, buzzing cock was rubbing between Jon’s legs. The tip nudged up against his still twitching hole. Every rub caught against him, teasing at what it could feel like if Michael would just slam in.

Its wicked tongue flicked against Jon’s ear as it asked, “ready?”

“Puh-leesh” he slurred and wiggled his hips back impatiently as he tried to catch the tip just so, at just the right angle. 

Michael sunk deep into him suddenly. His cock felt... weird, to say the least. It sunk deep, impossibly deep until he felt as if it had no end. Jon was, through the haze of intense pleasure, reminded of bad hentai in which the cervix itself was penetrated. The idea of his own uterus forced open and fucked may have done something for him.

He supposed that, if any creature could manage this without pain or death, it was the Distortion.

It was incredible to be filled so deeply.

He hissed and cried out around its fingers, muffled but audible all the same. The way his body was held off the ground made it that much better. He felt like a ragdoll, a well used and loved ragdoll, but a ragdoll nonetheless. Something about how powerless he was to stop Michael sent his mind spiraling into a euphoric fog.

He was kept there as the sensations rocking his body drifted through stages of pleasurable tingling, overwhelmingly deep penetration, and drunken buzzing. It felt as if Michael could climb up into him, swirling and entangling. Like it could change him - make him its own plaything.

Sober and well, he’d have rejected this. Now, though, being so thoroughly had was more wonderful than anything ever had been before it. Parts of his brain still working wondered if he could offer up his body in exchange for his life - become the creature’s toy. Would it keep him somewhere in its labyrinth, nude and ready at a moment’s notice? Would it make him beg for its attention like a good little pet?

Michael’s voice was lovely in his ear, soft and echoey like his laugh. It sighed and quietly moaned, sounding leisurely compared to its harsh thrusts. In the background, the rain roared against the museum roof and the coffin sang loudly enough to cover them.

Using what leverage he could he bounced back against each push. The door was his only solid point of reference as everything else melted away into pleasure and the need to be filled. His fingernails scratched at the door and did more damage to them than the door itself. He would need to tend to them, if he lived past this.

The Distortion was biting and licking at every sensitive hollow of his throat and would leave him marked up - again, should he live long enough to bruise.

The creature began to pant softly and thrust harder, giving the impression that it might cum. Could it cum? What would that be like? Did Jon need to worry about the spill of distorted reality into his own human body?

Whether he needed to or not was irrelevant as he found he could focus on nothing more than his own pleasure.

Jon rested his head back against Michael’s shoulder and after some minor difficulty effectively removed the Distortion’s fingers from his mouth.

“I’m c-close,” he whined as he nuzzled sloppily against the thing’s palm. “I nee~d it. C-can you? Fff-! Fill me with your cum?” 

His words were nowhere in the vicinity of eloquent, but he supposed they did the job. What he really wanted was to be filled so fully, so completely, that he would never have to worry about feeling empty again. He wanted to feel whole again so badly.

The creature stroked his cheek with long, saliva-slick fingers and hummed pleasantly at the request.

“Can you take it, Archivist?”

It’s voice went higher at the end and its thrusts became harder and sloppier with urgency. Michael rested its forehead on his back and shuddered as its orgasm approached. The buzzing and humming and dissonant feelings intensified to the point that Jon feared they would ruin them both. Then, something let loose like a hitch, and Jon was filled with wet heat. It felt almost electric inside of him, searing and absurdly wonderful all at once.

It ripped his climax straight out of him. He could have sworn he’d passed out for a moment.

He went boneless, slumped against the door and Michael in equal parts. His body trembled quite badly as all his arousal left him. Slick and cum dripped freely from his still-plugged cunt. He could feel Michael still inside him and it was too much, too warm, too tingly, and he had no strength to do anything about it.

Michael held inside him for a while, breathing heavily though Jon was sure it didn’t have to breath at all. Finally, it pulled free of his cunt and the removal seemed to go on and on. Jon had to wonder amid shaking and whining exactly how far in him Michael had been.

He didn’t want to know. But he did also want to know.

Jon finally found his faculties of speech. 

“I - Is there anything I can do to stop you from killing me?”

The implication was clear.

The Distortion laughed. 

“If you scream loud enough the Circus may take notice of me, but… I promise you will die far more pleasantly with me than with them.”

It sighed almost wistfully.

Finally, Jon agreed.

He tried the door he’d been steadily scratching his nails raw on, but it was locked.

After some confusion and panic, Michael was no more. Helen stood before a completely nude Jon - both the same creature he’d just been with and not.

After some back and forth, Helen finally said, “the door is open. If you’re ready?”

Jon breathed shakily, “no- not- not really, but...”

He sighed and took a step toward the door.

Helen arched an impossibly shaped eyebrow, “Archivist?”

“Yes?”

“... your trousers?”

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: The Hunt
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and let us know what you think. We thrive off the interaction and your words feed our drive to write more. <3
> 
> About Us: We're a queer couple and we write fucked up shit sometimes


End file.
